Something Stupid
by Redundant Goddess
Summary: Set a few weeks before infection. Nick and Ellis meet in a bar. One's looking for something; the other is trying to get away from it. Either or, could they be what the doctor ordered or just something stupid? Rated M for Language and sugestive themes.
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Disclaimer: Rose are Red, Violets are blue. All characters, Infected and such belong to Valve so please don't sue!

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><p><strong>Something Stupid...<strong>

_.-1-._

As Nick potted another ball, he decided then and there that he was in the mood for doing something stupid.

However, like most things in life, he just didn't know exactly what _it_ was he wanted.

Not that having come to Savannah in the first place wasn't pretty stupid in its self, but...

The aptly named "Pit Stop" was exactly that; a pit. Perhaps even a dive. The place was dully lit, seriously dilapidated and ridiculously humid.

Nick hated humid climates. He hated the way it sapped the strength from him, the way it made his bespoke shirts cling to his flesh with stale sweat, and he seriously hated -nay- loathed the way it always made him feel so claustrophobic in his own skin. It always reminded him way too much of his short, but memorable stint in jail.

God, how he missed the overly climate controlled sterile bars of Vegas! Sure, sometimes it was like walking around some twisted amusement park, filled to the gunnels with fake, plastic people and rapidly decaying geriatrics, but at least it had gambling, good booze and -most importantly of all- working air conditioning.

All in all, the constant humidity did nothing to sweeten his already sour mood.

Yeah, driving way down south to this shit hole had been pretty damn stupid alright.

But then, it wasn't as if Nick had had a choice in the matter. Why else would he be playing pool in some bar by himself, in the armpit of the Bible belt when he could've been sat at a table somewhere on the strip, getting rich if he had? No, being stuck in Savannah was just one of a many places he had ended up after taking a risky gamble, on a lead on the whereabouts of a certain thieving bitch, which -yet again- had turned out to be a complete crock of shit.

Nick gritted his teeth in frustration, and downed the remains of his cheap and nasty bourbon, before turning his attention back to his solitary game. God good, did it taste nasty as hell? Like a bad blend of over the counter bleach, mixed with barley flavoured piss. Still, it had a proof and was likely to either get him drunk or worse, killed. And really, at that precise moment, that was all that mattered to Nick. Anything that could help him forget his troubles and current shitty surroundings, if only for a little while.

But then, he wasn't in the mood for that kind of drunken stupidity.

No, he thought. No, he was after something else. Something alcohol couldn't quite manage...

How long had it been since Vegas, since he had left to hunt her down? Four maybe five months? He couldn't be sure; it wasn't as if he kept a diary. In any case it had been far too long. He sighed, heavy and weary, and leant his weight against his pool cue and contemplated his next move.

What exactly was his next move any way?

...Apart from the want - no-_ need_ to do something fantastically stupid, of course.

The trail-surprise surprise- had gone cold yet again, and the lead he had gotten from Miami had been most likely to be a red herring any way. He should've known. The gambler scowled and quickly sank a striped blue into the furthest corner pocket with considerable force.

The bitch was always one step ahead of him. Not so long ago that kind of thinking would've impressed him, but right at that moment it did nothing but strengthen his resolve that when he found her, he was going to plant a bullet right between her lying, cheating eyes.

Whilst Nick was not exactly the most moral of men, that didn't mean to say he didn't have certain scruples. Admittedly not many, but he definitely had them, especially when it came to shooting people. The man generally made it a rule to only resort to firearms if push came to shove and even then, only if he absolutely had to. Whilst bullets were cheap, the dry cleaning bill and the legal shit weren't. However in this instance, he was willing to make an exception.

But then who wouldn't? This was his bitch of an ex-wife he was talking about.

Cunning, conniving, and supremely talented in the art of talking people out of their hard earned cash... Sometimes it scared Nick just how alike they really were.

Veronica had been the best partner he had ever had. How else could she have conned him out of just shy of half a million dollars and then vanish without a trace?

A snarl left his throat, as he eyed up the few locals in the bar.

Just thinking about that bitch made his blood boil. It made his fists clench and itch for something to punch.

However, Nick knew he wasn't going to start any sort of shit. He may have been in the mood for something truly idiotic, but picking a fight with these back water hicks? Now that was a definite kind of special, suicidal based stupid Nick was not interested in. Because whilst beating a couple of hicks senseless with pool cue sounded fun and would surely make him feel slightly better (if only for a little while), dealing with the following repercussions would not. The man had no interest in being dragged through town by his ankles, only to be crucified by Earl Senior the following morning.

However, from the looks of the locals, a brawl wasn't likely to ensue anyway. It seemed like everybody in the joint knew that Nick was a loose cannon waiting, just waiting for an excuse to explode. And they sure as hell weren't willing to give him an excuse to do so. No one had gone near the northerner for the whole three hours he had been there, save the poor waitress.

So, taking his frustration out on the locals was out of the question.

As was conning them out of their money.

Nick scoffed at the notion. Conning these poor bastards out of money? Where was the fun in that? No, Nick preferred his marks with white collars, fat wallets and the personality traits of an 'A' grade prick. Sure, the man would slum it occasionally and wipe some poor bastard clean of his pitiful pay cheque on a game or two of pool when he had to, like he had done at the start of his 'career'. But the fat cats, the pricks... Now they were the ones the conman loved to fuck over. Nick took great joy from taking every last filthy penny these guys could rub together, and couldn't help but feel somewhat virtuous in doing so. Fuck it, they way those guys earned their money, in Nick's mind they deserved to be bent over, and taken full advantage of.

However, he doubted his prime marks would be caught dead in a place like this, perhaps some local drug lord with cash to burn, or a bar owner two sheets to the wind maybe. But Nick couldn't be bothered. He'd wait. Gambling angry was never the best way to go, and Nick only had a finite amount of cash to live on until he could get to Casino boats he'd heard about.

Nick stood back and studied the pool table. There were only a few shots left before the table would be clear.

The whole trip had been a complete waste of time.

And once he was done with this game, what next? He didn't want to get insanely drunk, he didn't want to start a fight and he sure as hell couldn't be fucked into gambling with any of these dumb bastards... so what the hell did he want? Of course, no one was about to answer that for him, which left the conman with very little to do, other than to (moderately) drink away the night and return to his shitty motel room, alone.

As the conman bent down over the table to take his next shoot, the sound of the bar door being opened echoed through. Nick gave a fleeting glance toward the bar, when he spotted out of the corner of his eye a young man with a stupid hick cap enter. He stopped for a moment, and watched as the kid drifted round to a stool across from his pool table and order himself up a beer...

_TBC..._

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><p>R+R: It powers this lean mean, writing machine.<p> 


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**Disclaimer: **Rose are Red, Violets are blue. All characters, Infected and such belong to Valve so please don't sue!

(A/M: Thank you all for all you're kind hits and visits. Kinda shocked actually. Hope you like this chapter... R.G. XXX)

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><p><strong>Something Stupid...<strong>

_By The Redundant Goddess..._

_.-2-._

Ellis gave the bartender a polite, but gruff nod as he sat down on his usual stool and ordered his usual beer. The young man sighed. It had been the mother of all shitty days. In fact, the whole week had been pretty shit from start to finish, as had been the past few months come to think of it. Which, really only meant there was one thing to do. Take a long trip out to "The Pit Stop" for a well deserved quiet beer, alone.

Now normally, Ellis wasn't the kind of guy who drank alone. When he was younger -and sneaking into bars with his friends Keith and Dave when he damn well shouldn't have been-, Ellis had always thought it was kind of weird the way some guys could knock 'em back on their own. With no friends to buy 'em drinks or hear stories from or nothing. Shit, how was a guy supposed to get by in life without having a few drinking buddies?

But then Ellis had gotten older, and somewhere along the line –possibly between the tenth visit to the emergency room after a long drinking session with Keith and having to work so damn hard all the time to look after his Momma, he couldn't be sure- he had finally got it.

Sure he loved his Momma, and sure he loved his friends too. But every once in a while, it would all get too much. He snorted as he thought of the old "Cheers" theme. Yeah, they sure had it wrong. Sometimes it was just plain nice to go somewhere ain't nobody heard of your friends, let alone your name. Sometimes a man just had to get away from it all, and be by himself.

Truth was, the only reason he had come out so far from home, and so far from his friends and family was to stop himself from doing something stupid.

Now, Ellis was young, enthusiastic and generally good natured. But, he also knew he could be brash, stubborn and overly prone to making rash decisions. Case in point, like the time he decided to shave all his hair off, because Keith wouldn't stop calling him a pussy. Dave and his Momma hadn't been too happy about it, but fuck it. It seemed like a good idea at the time.

The young man gave a wry smile as the bartender plonked a glass of cold beer under his nose. He toyed with the rim of the glass, and sighed.

Sure the kid knew his life wasn't a total hell, because the preacher at his local church was always saying there were folk out there suffering a hell of a lot more than his friends and family. But at that moment it sure was far from perfect. Where to start? Money problems, over bearing friends, his mother being sick again... Shit! It was enough to make a lesser man cry like newborn a baby that been ripped from his Momma...Not that Ellis hadn't shed a few tears in private; he wasn't that insecure about his masculinity...

Now, Ellis's Momma was a strong woman, really strong. She had worked two jobs for as long as he could remember, and was one of the reasons he had stayed in school and done as well as he had. So, that sooner, rather than later, she could ease up a bit and take more care of herself. And that was the problem. Whilst she was a strong, hard working woman in spirit, her body didn't seem to understand that. Kinda like an old beat up truck going up against one of them super charged Italian cars. Sure, it the truck was good ol' gal who'd try her best, but in a race against one of them fancy machines, she'd fall apart. The kid's Momma had chronic asthma and the medication she took was expensive, real expensive at that. Of course, she didn't have health insurance -Ellis didn't think he knew of anyone who did- so that just made things a damn sight worse.

So, Ellis had gotten a job in the local garage as soon as he was able. It was hard, balancing his senior year with work at the shop, but somehow he managed. He even got good grades; perhaps even good enough to have gotten into college, but of course that was never going to happen. By the time he had graduated, the kid and his friends had gotten pretty cosy in their jobs, and had even started to invest in their business.

Only, it wasn't their business, not strictly speaking anyhow.

Old man Thomas's shop had never been a great place, but ever since he, Keith and Dave had taken a shine to it, it had started to turn a fairly good trade. However, Ellis had noticed developers sniffing around the lot lately. Turns out the land the shop was on was worth something or another, and that someone was interested in paying a lot of money for it. Ellis couldn't exactly blame Mr Thomas for being interested, who wouldn't be? Money was money after all; however it didn't bode well for his future.

He had spent so long and worked so hard with his friends to make the shop what it was, and now it seemed all for nothing. Realistically speaking, Ellis was going to have to start again, but how in the hell was he supposed to do that? The only option was to buy out Thomas, but there was no way either he, Keith or Dave could ever come up with the money to trump what the developers were offering. Not that they seemed overly bothered about the whole situation, which was kind of strange, considering how Dave was usually the one to worry all the time about their finances and shit... No siree, bottom line was, Ellis was screwed and not in the good way.

Sure, he was a talented mechanic and could get a job anywhere if he wanted to, but that was another problem... Work was elsewhere, which meant Ellis would have to move, which meant leaving his mother. How could Ellis leave his sick Momma now? How would she survive?

Although talking to her, you wouldn't imagine there was anything wrong with her.

Ellis smirked and drank some of his beer. He grimaced, not great, but it was cheap.

Even though she was constantly in and out of hospital, Ellis's Momma hadn't been trying to get him to stay with her. No, she had been trying to push him to fly the nest and leave. In fact, she had done better than that. She'd had damn near tried to marry him off! Shit, what made it worst was the fact that she'd gotten Keith and Dave on board as well. Fuck man, there ain't nothing worse than having your Momma and your best friends try and railroad you into hooking up with some girl you ain't even met.

Ellis frowned.

They didn't want him to be lonely, had been their excuse. And lord knows, Ellis knew where they were coming from – since he didn't exactly have many notches on his bedpost and all-, and any other time he'd agree, but...

Not now, not with everything turning to shit right in front of him! And hell, even though he wasn't the luckiest with the ladies, that didn't mean he couldn't find himself one if he wanted too! Only, unlike some sons of bitches he could name, Ellis wasn't exactly inclined to wanting constant sex with women...and...well... Ain't none of anyone's business anyhow!

Shit, how in the hell had this all come about any way?

Only in his early twenties and with all this shit to contend with?

Deep down in his heart, Ellis knew they just wanted him to be happy. However, at times, it just seemed like they were all taking turns in making his like a misery.

That's why he had to get out of town. That's why he was sat in the arm pit of nowhere drinking shitty beer, and wondering how in the hell to deal with all of it without cussing at his mother or ending up trying to put Keith back in the hospital. He had to, lest he say something almightily stupid and fuck things even more than they already were.

Although, Ellis couldn't actually think how anything could make matters worse.

The kid sighed heavily and rubbed his tired eyes with the ball of his palm. He took a small sip of his beer and tried to take his mind of his many woes.

He looked around the bar, and saw the same usual bullshit he saw every time he decided to escape. But then the kid's eyes landed on the pool table and saw something he sure as hell didn't see every day. A man, he couldn't tell how old, with slick hair and a smart blue shirt, bent over the pool table, cue poised to strike. Ellis watched him, inquisitively. It was a difficult shot the guy was trying to pull off. In fact, it was damn nigh impossible.

However, a minute later, the guy struck the cue and Ellis single handily saw the most awesome thing he had ever seen, like ever!

The man managed to pot the black.

"Ho-lee shit!" Ellis blurted out.

Suddenly, Ellis gaze was met by the older man...

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><p>Liked it? Loved it? Licked it?<p>

R+R


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